How the blue-haired bastard had managed to lure him here, he still was not sure. Sure, Zoro loved drinking and a bar was a good place to get drinks of the alcoholic sort...but this wasn't a bar. It was a dance club called The Paralyzer, which had a bar in it. So while he was trying to sulk at a table as far away from people in general, he was nursing a headache from the constant pulse of the base. No amount of hard liquor could make it tolerable to him and if he didn't feel like he had an obligation to support his friend's newest business venture, the swordsman would have been out the door about as soon as the moment he set foot inside.
"Another bottle of sake, Mister Bushido?"
He looked up, his face making no attempt to hide his contempt for his surroundings. Smiling at him knowingly was the owner's girlfriend, her sharp blue-black eyes seeming to see through his.
"May as well, maybe another one'll make this drabble likable."
"Of course. I'll be right back."
"Yeah, thanks Robin."
But so far has not been good. It's been shitty, And I feel awkward, as I should.He watched her go with a lazy expression until she had vanished into the crowd, at which point he would let his gaze wander. It was a nice place and he was sure people were enjoying it but it was so far from his "scene" as they say he felt uncomfortable and outright annoyed. But it was opening night and so far Zoro hadn't had a chance to congratulate Franky in person...the man was moving around checking on people and making sure they were having a good time. As soon as he reached the swordsman, though...he decided he would make his fastest, most polite exit so he could go home and sleep.
Thoughts of escape began to wane as something caught his eye, which was surprising to say the least. A lazy brow raised as he caught a glimpse of blurred blond and blue-black on the nearest dance floor. Someone showing off, he imagined...there were too many swooning women in a throng for him to get a clear view.
Not far from them he managed to pick a few of his other friends out; seems that Nami had managed to drag Luffy away from the buffet long enough to get him to dance with her...nearby he was amused to find Usopp trying to teach some of his personal "lady-killer" moves to the easily-influenced Chopper. Zoro imagined that the young boy with a puff of brown curls was an exception the the age limit rules for the club, but that's because he was family.
A ripple of excited squeals earned an eye-twitch and the swordsman swung his annoyed gaze back to the flock near the middle. What was their deal, anyway? It took some leaning out of his chair and neck-craning, but soon enough he was able to spot the cause...it was that smart-ass cook from the fancy restaurant up the street. He'd only met the bastard recently and boy did then NOT get along. He was friends with the swordsman's friends, though, so for their sake he had to deal with the asshole.
Sanji. He snorted, eyes narrowing a bit and was about to look away, but for some reason...didn't. Yeah, the cook was showing off and the ladies loved it. Hell, even some guys were sneaking glances...Zoro among them. The swordsman had been vaguely aware that the blond had some manner of fighting skills, something to do with martial arts and only using his feet...but he wasn't aware it could just as easily be applied to dancing.
That's why most everyone else was watching, most likely. But Zoro...he watched much like an opponent might watch a rival, studying and sizing him up. His hands curled into fists on the table, reflexively itching to wrap around the hilts of his katana. The cook was agile, light on his feet, but...just watching how he could swing his legs so effortlessly, the swordsman knew he had some real power in them. Upper body strength too; the other man was thin, but it still took a lot to keep a body up in the air on one hand while spinning. Something stirred in Zoro's expression.
This club has got to be, The most pretentious thing, Since I thought you and me.He could almost feel it in his hands, the shock extending down the edge of Wado to the hilt as she slammed against a steel-toed black shoe, polished nearly as meticulously as his own swords... It had been a while since he'd been able to fight anyone who could keep pace against him, especially against his swords. He could get into a fist-fight with Luffy and Franky, sure...even a paintball match against Usopp was enjoyable, but he wouldn't consider any of them able to fight against him when he was using the deadly blades. They weren't for show...they could seriously injure someone. And Zoro decided that somehow he was going to have his way and use them against Sanji. The remaining question was...how the hell would he manage to set that up?
Well I am imagining, A dark lit place, Or your place or my place."Quite the dancer, isn't he?"
Zoro nearly jumped, blinking away from watching the cook to see that Robin had returned with the bottle of sake on a tray, smiling in her ever-knowing way that drove him up a wall.
"What?"
She set the bottle down and chuckled, sitting across from him with her chin resting in one hand, much to his displeasure.
"Cook-san, of course. You were watching how he dances. I think he's quite the handsome one and will be good for drawing in more women."
The swordsman snorted, pouring himself a generous amount of the drink, eying her carefully.
"Yeah."
She studied him a moment before going on.
"You want to fight him, I imagine. Not with fists, but with your swords."
He paused with the cup almost to his lips, convinced not for the first time that Robin was a mind-reading witch with terrifying, soul-scrying eyes. To further his conclusion, she laughed.
"It's in your eyes. I've seen that look several times when I have gone with Franky to watch some of your matches. Though, it is the first time I have seen it up close and without the bandanna. You do resemble a Demon, as the nickname suggests."
Zoro smirked a bit. He was rather proud of his title: Demon Cutter Zoro.
"Not like he would , though..." he sighed, downing the cup.
"Oh, I wouldn't be so uncertain."
He stared at her in silence, expecting her to go on but she simply stood with a little nod.
"Franky should be by your table in a few minutes, then feel free to stay or leave at your leisure."
He grumbled and started on the rest of the bottle, telling himself that as soon as he spoke to the over-eager owner, he was gone. But when Franky had come and gone, the swordsman remained in his seat, watching the dance floor again.
Well I'm not paralyzed, But, I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move, Because you're standing still.The club eventually began to wind down and empty out. He saw Luffy leave with Nami, then Usopp and Chopper. Soon enough it was just a handful of stragglers at the bar and the music had thankfully quieted down to a sane level Zoro couldn't feel hammering in his chest.
He stood from his chair, hardly phased by the several bottles of sake under his belt. But it was late and he wanted to sleep. Giving an off-handed wave to Franky at the bar, he headed for the door, head still working in circles imagining the fight against the cook. There'd be no real winner, likely, just a general agreement to end it...but until that moment, it would be as if they fully intended the other would be bloodied and on the floor in a heap before it was over.
Somewhere between the table and the door and his thoughts, the swordsman's shoulder hit something and he was rewarded with a flash of a bright, angry blue eye.
"Oi oi, marimo, watch where you're going..." the cook spat, looking rather affronted for the collision.
"Shouldn't be in my way, then, ero-cook," Zoro snorted back, hardly amused either and quite frankly itching for a confrontation.
"In your way? Tsk, I wasn't the one walking around watching my own feet...surprised you didn't get lost on the way to the door."
Zoro's glare became rather heated, something thrilled inside to find that the cook hadn't backed down and in fact, looked about as ready to kick his head in as he was to-
Damn. He didn't even have his katana with him...
"I don't have time for this...get out of my way, eyebrow."
Sanji grabbed him by the front of his shirt and the urge to break the cook's wrist like a twig didn't escape the swordsman's thoughts unpondered.
"What did you call me?!"
"I called you eyebrow!"
"Are you trying to make fun of me, you shitty idiot?!"
"So what if I am?!"
In their short time of knowing one another, the two had developed the tendency to spout off furiously over nothing for no reason whatsoever. Their friends found it amusing, total strangers ran for cover.
"I ought to kick your damn skull in!"
"I'd like to see you try that when I have my swords, you dartboard-eyebrow!"
"Then go get your damn sticks!"
Zoro had to blink at the other man for a moment before a sinister grin crawled over his lips.
"Didn't bring 'em with me, but I bet you aren't man enough to fight me anyway..."
"Ehh?! Is that a challenge?!"
Robin stepped up to them, her hands raised in a calming gesture.
"Now now boys, not inside please. If you must play, you'll need to go outside. But it is late. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon would be a better idea...the park nearby?"
Zoro snorted as the cook predictably let go of his shirt to swoon over the woman. He brushed past, making a point of bumping shoulders with Sanji again.
"Doubt you'd show." he muttered with a smirk.
"Oh, I'll be there, marimo..." Sanji retorted after Robin had wandered back to the bar. "So don't sleep in and waste my time."
He was lazy heading out the door, showing no sign that the exchange had left any impact. But as soon as he was alone, he was sprinting to get back to his apartment with the looming fight putting fire in his veins and grinning like an absolute madman.
It was gonna be fun.
If your body matches, What your eyes can do, You'll probably move right through, Me on my way to you.That night, he dreamed of sharp blue eyes and steel against black leather, bits of blond and fire, the smell of cigarette smoke and the ocean... Zoro couldn't make any sense of it other than to just assume he was excited for the fight and had it ingrained in his subconscious. Didn't hold much belief in dream interpretation, anyway.
The swordsman roused himself from bed early, despite the late night out drinking. He showered, dressed, stuffed his face with a sandwich of toast and that microwave bacon because he was likely to burn the place down if he cooked, and headed into his work-out room to get ready for the day's big event. Even if it was just a pointless brawl with some shitty cook with an infuriatingly curly eyebrow, he took it as seriously as any of his competition matches.
Warm-ups were followed by weight-lifting and finally some basic moves with his trusted katana. While anyone this day and age would seem silly to go into a fight with one sword, Zoro took things to another plane altogether by wielding three. One for each hand and one between his teeth. Sure, it kinda looked silly...borderline stupid, but damn if it wasn't effective.
The sun was crawling closer to noon when he decided he was just about ready. He carefully returned the katana to their scabbards and placed all three in his gym bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he headed out the door. It was a nice day, alright...not too hot, bit of a breeze; perfect fighting weather if he had to say. Putting a pair of headphones on, Zoro listened to his music while he casually strolled, figuring there was no rush in getting to the park.
For all he knew, Sanji had been drunk the night previous and would wake up hung-over and completely devoid of the memory of agreeing to the fight. That being a possibility, he didn't see any sense getting too excited and running all the way there only to be disappointed. He had to stop then for a moment, just standing there on the sidewalk with a brow raised at himself. Disappointed? Would he really get that worked up if the cook was a no-show? Probably not. Definitely not, why should he give a damn about anything concerning the blond? But...
Flashes of his dream came to him as he began walking again, still wearing a slightly perplexed look.
Even if he hated Sanji's guts and everything about him...how he acted around women, how he was so smug and uptight, how annoying his eyebrow was to look at, the way he always had a cigarette at the corner of his lips, how he could move so fluidly but still show off his strength, his almost impossibly long legs, the way his blue eye glinted with the same fire as his own did when-
"What?"
Zoro stopped mid-thought and questioned himself out-loud. He shook his head hard and growled, walking with a slightly faster pace. He was going to kick that stupid, shitty eyebrow's ass so hard for making think about him. And he didn't care if that concept didn't make any sort of sense...neither did them fighting in the first place. But the bastard annoyed him and if he was going to intrude on his thoughts and his dreams, he was gonna catch hell for it one way or another.